“We are the children of the migrant worker/ We are the offspring of the concentration camp/ Sons and daughters of the railroad builder/ Who will leave our stamp on America.  We are the children of our Chinese waiter/ Born and raised in the laundry room/ We are the offspring of the Japanese gardener/ Who will leave his stamp on America.  Sing a song for ourselves/ What have we got to lose/ Sing a song for ourselves/ We’ve got the right to chose.